


The first time Arthur looked at man

by Lullabylily



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rating: NC17, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-17
Updated: 2012-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 02:15:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lullabylily/pseuds/Lullabylily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's sexual fantasies take a turn when Merlin becomes his manservant...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The first time Arthur looked at man

**Author's Note:**

> One of the first Merlin stories I ever wrote; this one I started in the Louvre while watching delicious Greek sculptures of naked men. The dub con warning is for consent issues in a sexual fantasy - it's not acted upon.

  
The first time Arthur looked at a man –  _really_  looked at a man was when he was thirteen and people still considered him a child. One of his father’s knights had invited him up to his chambers to discuss Arthur’s training schedule for next month. When Arthur arrived, Sir Thomas was changing from his training gear into more formal clothing for the banquet that evening. His manservant was assisting him. Arthur’s presence didn’t bring a halt to those ministrations.   
  
Arthur was silent as he watched… and watched. How he managed to keep a telltale blush from dyeing his cheeks red he didn’t know. But neither Thomas or his manservant eyed him in a suspicious manner.   
  
In an almost casual fashion, Thomas’s athletic body was revealed by the quick, deft hands of his manservant. To Arthur, it wasn’t particularly shocking to see all male body parts exposed. But it was the way in which Thomas stood there: upright, proud, a piece of cloth carelessly draped around his shoulder to cover only part of his upper arm.   
  
Arthur’s gaze followed the lines of a muscled chest down to the hips, the groin and the upper legs. He let it linger there. Staring at the dark hair marking the region of Thomas’s crotch. The deep-red skin of his sex stood out against the pale expanse that was the rest of his body. Arthur’s mouth turned dry when a chuckle reverberated through Thomas’s body in response to a small joke from his manservant, making his genitals jiggle slightly. When Thomas turned around to choose one of the shirts his servant had selected for him, Arthur had to bite his lip at the sight of that sculpted back. The line of the backbone divided the mass of muscle. It ended in firm buttocks with roundings that layers of chainmail and armour kept hidden from dignified view.   
  
Later that evening, Arthur brought himself off to the memory of Sir Thomas’s body. And for years after it was the vision he most often conjured up while pleasuring himself. During those sessions, his mind had managed to alter the memory into an elaborate sexual fantasy, in which Thomas would send his manservant away and have Arthur assist him. In which Thomas would allow Arthur’s hands, clumsy with inexperience, to slide over his flesh with a reverence that lacked in the cold, practiced ministrations of the knight’s servant.   
  
When Arthur’s fingers lingered on the Thomas’s hips, the knight’s hand would cover Arthur’s, closing around the wrist, bringing the hand to his cock, at the root near his balls. Arthur wouldn’t dare to look up into those eyes, for fear of what he would find there. His fingers trembled badly at the contact with this different kind of skin. But he started to stroke or Thomas’s hand made him do so, Arthur’s mind was no longer functioning properly.   
  
He would stroke and stroke, speeding up the movements as his breath mimicked Sir Thomas’s panting. Arthur’s arousal was pressed against the older knight’s leg and he would almost let go of the tension building up in his groin the moment Thomas presses a hand against Arthur’s buttocks, pulling him closer in a strange embrace. The hand would squeeze and caress and Arthur would rest his head in the nape of the knight’s neck. Sir Thomas’s hand guided Arthur’s own, making its movements faster still. The knight’s cock would be slick with drops of semen that already escaped from the slit. Through the fabric of his breeches, Arthur was rubbing his cock against Thomas’s naked hip, finding a similar rhythm.   
  
‘Just like that… Gods, Arthur, just like that.’ Thomas muttered.  
  
Arthur would know the man was close. Would know because  _he_  was so bloody close.  
  
Arthur let out a deep; loud moan the moment he came. He felt something like shame for lying on his bed with the doors barred in the middle of the day. He should be out there, patrolling, training… But he felt the need to seek out the privacy of his chambers more often these days. Ever since Merlin had been pronounced his manservant…   
  
Merlin, with his oversized ears, his ridiculous neckerchief and worn clothes. Merlin, who was so thin he looked like he could break any time and yet never  _really_  looked fragile.   
  
Merlin, with his goofy, insolent smile and clumsy hands...   
  
Merlin’s presence had transformed Arthur’s sexual fantasies: the positions were reversed now; Arthur as the commanding knight letting a clumsy, inexperienced boy bring him off.   
  
It was unreasonable. Arthur had had servants before and it had always been there duty to help him dress and undress. Why should he suddenly develop some kind of fetish around Merlin’s hands? But like Thomas’s servants, Arthur’s servants used to move over his skin in that monotonous, controlled manner.   
  
Merlin’s hands on the other hand… Merlin was completely rubbish at even the simplest tasks such as buttoning his shirt or belting his breeches. His hands were coarse; his fingers were long but in no way graceful. They were hesitant when they moved over Arthur’s body; lingering before moving on to the next button, the next piece of cloth… Merlin shot casual glances at Arthur’s naked chest. Merlin had blushed scarlet when he first assisted Arthur at taking his bath. His hands had trembled as he pulled the towel around Arthur’s waist.   
  
Once Merlin’s knuckles had accidentally brushed against Arthur’s cock and it had taken every ounce of self-control for his hands not to reach out and sneak around Merlin’s wrist to keep those fingers  _right_  there.   
  
Arthur let out a choked sound when he realized his hand had worked his cock back up to its nearly fully erect stated. But he responded by leisurely spreading his legs slightly wider to allow his hand better access. It was clearly best to obey his body’s wishes. If it took several mid-day wanks to assure he would not grow painfully erect right under Merlin’s gaze then that was exactly what he would do. In the end, the thought of revealing his sexual fantasies to Merlin by growing hard during the boy’s ministrations only worked to arouse Arthur even further.   
  
Just like the shameless peasant he was, Merlin would stare at his erection unabashedly. ‘Arthur…’ Merlin would say, because he never did bother with ‘Your Highness’. And Arthur could command him right then and there to get on his knees and suck his cock. He could  _make_  Merlin obey him with threats of the stocks, dungeons, floggings… Anything that would make Merlin drop to his knees and effectively wrap his lips around Arthur’s cock. Taking it, moaning around Arthur thumping his mouth. Arthur would let his fingers get tangled in those strands of dark-brown hair. And Merlin would know, would know for once that Arthur was his master. That Arthur  _commanded_  him. That Arthur owned him.   
  
It would be so easy. So very easy. And it would be good too. Arthur had spent enough time looking at Merlin’s mouth to know that it would be exquisite to have it wrapped around his cock. And when he came, Merlin would swallow, he would make Merlin swallow everything.   
  
Arthur pressed his face against his pillow as he let the waves of post-orgasmic bliss roll off him. His face was flushed, but not just from the eroticism. He knew it was shame that made his stomach tighten, that made the feeling of afterglow taste bitter. He hated himself for having these kinds of fantasies. It didn’t soothe him knowing that it was just a fantasy and that he would never act upon it. The bitterness came from the realization that it  _would_  be easy. It wouldn’t even be ‘unusual’.   
  
Arthur had seen it before; richt nobles that casually touched their servants. The blank faces of boys or young men as they _allowed_  their masters those ‘privileges’. He’d seen things, he’d heard things. Just months before Merlin became his servant a rich nobleman from a neighbouring kingdom had taken up temporary residence at Camelot as a guest of the King. Uther had send Arthur to the man’s chambers in order to invite him personally to a private dinner with the King and his son. But Arthur ended up not even knocking the door. He’d heard the moans; pained and choked and the Lord’s smug, commanding voice ‘Tell me how much you like it.’   
  
The boy had assisted Camelot’s servants that evening at dinner; his face carrying a hollow expression as he moved stiffly to refill his master’s cup of wine. That night Arthur lost count of the number of times he swore to never use a servant like that, would never force anyone into a physical relationship.   
  
 _So. Court him._  His mind seemed to scream at him. But that was preposterous. A noble – a Crown Prince for heaven’s sake – courting his manservant? It could never be more than a fantasy…  
  
And yet. That night when Merlin helped him undress Arthur had to wonder. Looking into Merlin’s deep blue eyes as the man smiled at him, he thought that maybe the hand lingering on his hip meant something other than hesitation and incompetence. And Arthur allowed himself to believe that maybe Merlin was courting  _him_ ; was doing so in a clumsy manner that was so typically  _Merlin_.   
  
Later still, covered by night and a pile of blankets, his hand once more firmly around his cock, Arthur still had no idea what to do with  _that_  piece of information…


End file.
